


Gotham shooting

by Featherly



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Guns, High School, School, School Shootings, Serious Injuries, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherly/pseuds/Featherly
Summary: Noone knows what triggers a school shooting. They only know to run and hide.





	Gotham shooting

Tim was bored and tired.

It was Friday, and he could think of a million things he would rather be doing than walking around on a tour of his brothers’ high school. It was supposed to be an orientation day since he would be a freshman next year, so he was forced to lope around, peer into classrooms, do the ‘fun activities’ they had planned, and all over the course of a full 6 hour day. 

He peered at his watch and groaned, realising he had only been there for an hour and a half. They had seen one section of the school, and done one ‘fun activity’, which involved a group exercise with the other 13 or 14 year olds going to the school next year. It was awkward, and way too touchy for anyone to have enjoyed it.

The tour went into the gym, and Tim finally found something interesting. Jason was kicking ass in a game of dodgeball. Tim called out to his brother, “Jason! Hey!”  
Jason gave Tim a side glance and smirked. He caught the ball thrown from the other side, and threw the ball at Tim. Tim caught it easily despite the high speed and velocity it was charged at him with. “You’re out Jason!” called Tim.  
Jason’s coach stabbed his thumb to the left, indicating that he was in fact out. Jason threw his arms out palms up. “What the hell? He wasn't even playing!”

“Then I should write you up for endangering the guests” replied the old man with a tone of amusement.  
Jason threw his arms in a ‘whatever’ gesture and removed himself from the game, glaring at Tim dangerously as he went.

“Those were some mean reflexes!” said the kid behind Tim. “You know that guy?”

“Yeah” replied Tim, rolling the ball back towards the players. “He’s my big brother.”

The tour continued and brought them to thieir next ‘fun activity’, which the guides were more enthusiastic about than anyone else.   
The tour guides were seniors looking for extra credit, and boy did they want those credits. This game was another team building exercise. Everyone got a straw and had to make an MnM go around the circle without it touching the ground by sucking it into the straw (even though these kids were STRANGERS!) Tim was halfway around the circle from where the MnM started, and after 5 people, he noticed the colour had already been sucked off the centre of the candy. Thankfully for him, the kid 3 down from him was allergic to peanuts, and it was a peanut MnM. 

The ambulance took the kid away and they were free to enjoy the rest of the day with no more ‘fun activities’. The rest of the tour, lunch, and a few tests were left for the day.   
An hour and a half to lunch, They came to the front of the science labs. This is what Tim had been waiting for. When they entered the room, he saw fantastic example of technology, and though they were sub-par to the batcave’s tech, it still looked phenomenal.  
He watched as current students went about their experiments, so quick and precise. This school had a fantastic science program, better than anywhere else in the state! This is what appealed Tim, as well as only a few other prospective students.  
‘All the more for me’ thought Tim.

They walked around the labs, looking into each one. In the last one, Tim found Dick concentrating on a test tube which held smoking purple liquid. “psst” called Tim. Dick looked over, finally realising there were other people in the lab. He smiled and gave Tim a wave. A loud bang brought his attention back to his test quickly. The sound made everyone jump, wide eyed. Dick’s mixture had turned green, making him look at his notes a little closer. “Aw dammit!” he grumbled, throwing his book back to the bench and scribbling into it fiercely with a red pen.

The tour ended at the cafeteria, just as the lunch bell sounded. Tim got near the front of the line and students began to file out of their classrooms.

Tim watched the scenes around him; the tired, pale faces. Students were forced to work hard at Gotham Academy with no exceptions.   
He saw Dick enter the cafeteria and made eye contact, which the elder broke quickly. He had half expected Dick to spend lunch with him, but of course he didn’t, and Jason was nowhere to be seen.   
Dick and Jason had their own lives to worry about, their own friends, their own schedules. Tim was a little jealous though. He came here alone, and he ate lunch alone. This was okay though. Maybe he could have friends next year...  
His schedule would be very tight. Perhaps a science club? He looked around at his future peers. None of them looked like the science club type, but looks could be deceiving. His own brothers, and maybe even Tim himself were living breathing examples of that.

Tim sat on the end of a table which held 7 other people, all talking away like old friends. One near him said something about the latest episode of ‘Game of Thrones’, and Tim took his chance.  
“Crazy with that Jon Snow thing, yeah?”

They looked at Tim as if he had said something about one of their grandmothers, and not a fictional character in a fictional show. “Yeah, okay” said Tim, standing with his tray. He bussed it himself and looked over at Dick again. He was sat with two other boys Tim had never seen before, laughing and having a good time, probably not talking about the latest episode of Game of Thrones but instead something more personal. Something better.   
Tim looked towards the future classes of Gotham Academy and decided noone would mind if he slipped off to go to the bathroom.

He went to the bathroom closest to the science labs, since there was a sense of serenity in the feeling of just being near such a wonderful place. One might even call it poetic justice.  
He opened the door to the boys toilets and saw two other people at the urinals, competing for who could piss harder. In the last stall, cigarette smoke rose over the block. Tim walked towards a stall, ignoring the calls of “Freshman!” from the two others he could see. One kicked his stall, stating they could “Wait all day!”   
Tim ignored them and went about his business. When he finished, he washed his hands with the two annoyances next to him. “Whatchya doin freshman?” asked one of them, jabbing Tim in the head. He reached for the soap dispenser, but brought his hand back when he and those around him jumped. There was a loud bang, similar to the reaction Dick made in the lab. Tim relaxed after a moment, remembering this, but this relaxation also only lasted a moment.

“What the fuck was that?” asked the boy to Tim’s left. Both looked at the exit. There was a click behind them and a dark haired boy around 17 stuck his head out of his stall, cigarette still in his fingers. Another loud bang, and then screaming. Tim’s heart fell out of his chest, burying itself in the pit of his stomach.   
The boy to Tim’s right ran to the door, locked it, and turned off the light.   
A tiny window let in a slight stream of light just above the sinks, but other than this they were submerged in total darkness.   
Teens hit the other side of the door, slamming their fists into it as if it would magically open for them, before moving on to the next rooms. 

A third bang, and then a series- possibly from a machine gun. There was more screaming, and suddenly, silence. It was eerie, like someone had turned all of the sound in the world off with the flick of a switch.

Tim saw the dark haired boy in the stream of light, one hand over his mouth, the other stubbing out the cigarette on the wall. He looked like a typical goth, if he needed to be loped into a group.  
“What happened?” he whispered.   
“SH!” demanded the boy who had jabbed Tim in the head. 

“What’s your school’s protocal?” asked Tim, his heart beating quickly, vibrating him like a leaf in a hurricane.   
It was easy to be brave as Robin, when every possible move had been planned already, when they were the ones being told about others misfortunes,when Batman could save you and tell you what to do next. But in that moment, when there was no plan, when you were the one who could die, when there was no Batman to save you; It was scary.

“I said SH!” Replied the same boy.  
The other one who had been on Tim’s left shoved the other boy and said “Shove off Jez. Kid is probably scared out of his mind.” He pulled up a torch on his phone and shone it towards the door. He crept over and put his ear to it, hiding the light with his hand.

“What do you hear?” Asked the Goth in a low voice. The kid at the door fumbled with his phone frantically for a moment and turned the torch off, stepping away from the door.   
Underneath, two pairs of shoes blocked out the light of the hallway. Tim’s breath stopped in his throat. The Goth kid and Jez stepped back a few paces each, Goth silently colliding with the wall.   
There was a polite knock at the door, which turned into a manic turning of the handle, and became pounding. Tim blocked his mouth with both hands, desperate to hide any sound he may have subconciously been making. Breathing easily gave away a position. 

The pounding on the door became kicking. Tim thought ‘It’s going to give way. The wood will bend to their will, and they will find us.’ He slowly dropped himself to the floor, sitting on his heels. He turned to the others, seeing their silhouettes only. Goth had resigned to the shadows, just in case these new editions could see through wood but not darkness.

The kicking stopped and a boy said “Add it to the list.” there was a fast scrawling, and then the shadows moved and returned the light to under the door.

The group gathered in the bathroom next to the science block refused to move for the next twenty minutes, even though Tim’s feet were asleep and he was ready to collapse on them. The automatic bell rang, signalling the end of lunch and the start of fifth period.

“Whose doing this?” asked the boy closest to the door.

“Probably one of Gothy here’s crew” replied Jez. 

The goth sighed. “Is now really a good time to be a dick?”

Tim forgot about his feet and stood erect. “DICK” he cried out. The boy near the door almost flew across the room, slamming his hand over Tim’s mouth. Was Dick okay? Was Jason okay? Where were they now? Dick had been in the cafeteria. What if he was the first one shot? WHERE WAS JASON?

“Oh my god” exclaimed Tim, falling to his knees. The other boy’s hand pushed harder into Tim’s mouth, stopping as much noise as he could.  
“You’re gonna get us killed” he said though his actions seemed unnecessary.   
“My brothers are here” he whispered.  
“So are mine” said the boy kneeling next to Tim, “But they know what to do. They’ll be okay. Same with your brothers.”  
Tim wondered about this.   
When the whole fiasco started, the first move was to lock the door. If every room did this there would be nowhere for the stragglers to go.

All four boys stood in anticipation, waiting to see if anyone had heard Tim’s cries. “What if they didn’t make it?” Dick asked noone in particular.   
“Marshal is right kid” said Jez. “They know what to do. Today was a bad day for you guys to come... Jesus. You’re just kids.”  
Really though, they were all kids.

Tim thought about his family. He worried about Jason. The second eldest always wanted to play the hero, to be top dog. He could have already gotten himself killed... Damn his impulsive attitude. Tim scratched his hand across the floor towards him, the screech of his nails ugly. 

Further down the hall, a bang followed by more gunfire. Tim’s breath stopped. Dick had been in that room not long ago, less than an hour ago!   
He watched the space under the door, slowly making his way to a stall in the dark. Each boy took their own stall, Marshall taking the one closest to the door. 

“What do we do if they come here?” asked Tim in no more than a whisper.   
“We stay silent and try to keep out of their eye sight.”

Tim thought this plan was stupid. There was nowhere in the small space they could hide. ‘We’re going to die here’ thought Tim. He slid to the ground again, trying to think of a plan. “What would Batman do in this situation?”   
He didn’t realise he had asked this out loud, but unfortunately nobody had an answer for him.  
“He’d utilise his environment. He would use whatever he had on him...” It was lunch. Noone had anything on them.the Goth had cigarettes and a lighter, but that was all. Their environment was tiled and the only thing they could use were paper towles and toilet paper. It was absolutely hopeless. If the shooter got in, all four would be dead before they could see whoever it was.

“Everyone for themself,” decided Jez.  
“That’s cowardly” said his best friend through gritted teeth.  
“I don’t want pip-squeak or freaky messing up my chances for survival” said Jez, throwing a thumb towards the Goth before closing his stall door and locking it, as if it would give him extra protection from the shooter.  
The light under the door became blocked, only by one set of shoes this time. There was no knocking, no inpatience. This time, it was a key in the lock, a twist, a click, and an opening door. 

Tim climbed onto the back of the door, utilising the crack in the side. If the stranger opened the stall from his side, Tim’s fingers would be jammed. He slowed his breathing, made himself silent, and was blinded when a light was turned on.

He closed his eyes, waiting for whatever would happen next. He heard the steps pass by the first stall, then his own. He heard them stop outside Jez’s stall. He heard the click of the handgun, and he heard it go off. He heard a loud cry too high pitched to be a boy, but it was a boy. A living, breathing boy. Time stopped there, and restarted when the shooter kicked the last stall. He heard the door ricochet off itself, and he heard the footsteps walk out, leaving a boy crying behind them.   
Despite how much they wanted to see Jez, just how bad he was, nobody dared move. Tim’s fingers were red from holding himself up, and they were numb, but still he stayed immobile. He looked at the floor, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of red seeping into his own stall. This wasn’t Gotham city at night, where scum walked the Earth and good people were at home in bed. This was a high school, where children came to learn in a safe environement.

Tim stepped down from the door, coating his blue and white shoes red. He stepped onto the toilet seat and looked over into the next stall. He did a sort of acrobatic trick and landed gracefully onto the toilet seat next to jez. He was bleeding from his midsection, badly.   
Tim removed his shirt, revealing the muscles he often tried to hide, and forced it onto Jez with as much pressure as he could muster. “If I had my bag I could fix you right up” said Tim, removing the shirt to see if the bullet was still lodged in there. Of course it was.  
“You keep medical supplies in your bag?” asked the Goth, peering at him from over his own stall.  
“Never know when you'll need it” replied Tim, replacing his formerly white shirt to the wound. 

There were more shots down the hall, which roused Marshal from his stall. “I think he’s far off” he said, locking the door again. “But we can’t forget that there’s more than one.”  
This fact hadn’t left anyone’s mind. “Jez, you hear me bud?” asked Marshal, knocking on the stall his friend was hiding in. Tim opened it from the floor and avoided it as it was pushed open from the other side. Marshal fell to his knees beside Jez, one hand on the other’s shoulder. He squeezed, tapping lightly on Jez’s cheek. Jez slipped in and out of conciousness, moaning.   
“You shouldn’t have locked it” suggested Marshal.  
“I'll remember that for next time” groaned the bleeding boy through tears. He groaned again, and noone expected the lock in the main door again. 

Out of instinct, Tim stepped forward and shielded the wounded and helpless. The door opened and a boy wearing a red cap that blended so well with his hair walked in. He raised the handgun he was holding, the barrel pointed straight at Tim. He stared at the boy with his arms out, refusing to move. ‘Protect the innocent’ he told himself. He ran towards the boy before he could do anything, grabbed the outstretched hand and disarmed the intruder with a seamless ease. He kicked the boy forward, making him land in a heap on the ground. He yelled out as he fell and Tim kicked him in the back of the head, knocking him out. He turned to the people in the stall, all eyes on him.  
The goth spoke; “What the fuck was-” 

Another shooter, this one brunette, kicked in the door and had Tim on the ground before he could react. The younger boy was on his stomach, the weight of the other boy heavy on his spine. He placed his gun right on Tim’s temple. “No. Not this way” said the shooter.   
He grabbed a clump of Tim’s hair and turned his head so he was facing the other occupants. “That’s better.” 

A million thoughts went through his mind then. What would happen to these people? What would his brothers say... If they were alive? Bruce? Who was this kid? How did this happen? How was this allowed to happen?  
“You're a coward” said Tim, “A coward who uses weapons to hide the fact that he’s weak.”

He heard the gun click hext to his ear, and heard the barrel turn. It moved in slow motion, a time that may have been years for the Flash.   
He heard the click, and felt the pressure. Air pressure.   
It made a full turn with another click. It did this 5 more times, and Tim was still alive. 

Tim’s eyes went wide. The shooter reached for the machine gun strapped to his back, but struggled to pull it off as Tim moved underneath his legs. Tim manouvered the knee from his spine and turned his body enough to kick the coward off himself. He threw the guns from them and beat the shooter. He beat him until his knuckles were bleeding worse than Jez. He sat back and looked at his work; the brunette’s face bloody and broken, teeth missing, nose broken, eyes swollen and sunken.   
“Where’d you learn that!?” asked Marshal. Jez coughed, bringing blood up.   
Tim wiped the blood on his pants.“Not now. Look after these.” He handed the guns over to the Goth and Marshal, or more so he put them on the ground near them. They didn’t want to touch them.  
He stalked from the room, rushing towards the cafeteria, careful in case there was a third shooter. He pulled on the door concealing his bag, but it didn’t move. Plan B.   
Tim half ran towards the nurse’s office, the second place he had gone on his tour. He pulled on the door, but again it was locked. “Please! There’s someone who was shot. He’s bleeding to death!”   
There was no answer. He looked through the tiny circular window on the door and saw a foot protruding from behind the table. “I can see you! Just slide something to stitch him up with under the door or somethi-”  
There were many gun clicks behind Tim. 

He raised his hands and turned around slowly, staring like a deer in the headlights. He relaxed when he saw the blue uniforms of the GCPD.

**

“DICK! JASON!” screamed Tim into the massive crowd. The oval became the meeting place for those who had evaded the nightmare; those who weren’t dead or injured.   
Tim ran around frantically, screaming out the names of his brothers, and in the hundreds he finally saw one of them. 

“TIM!” called Dick, running towards the youngest brother in a way that should have barrelled over half of the school’s population.   
He took the younger into a tight hug, refusing to let go. “I couldn’t see you after the first shot... You weren’t with the other kids.”  
“I was in the bathroom” said Tim.  
“Just as well.” Dick’s face became grim. “Three of them dead, twenty one injured. Only in that small group.”  
Tim’s heart skipped a beat. He rubbed his face in one hand, wiping some excess blood on his cheek.   
“You’ve got blood on your hand” said Dick with concern.   
“Yeah. But it’s not mine. Where’s Jason?”   
Dick looked around the group, towering over the youngest, scanning wildly for the shorter Wayne adoptee. He didn’t show it, but he was panicking. “I don’t know” he finally confessed.  
The brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, sitting when they were told by teachers or police, watchinf out for Jason with heavy hearts.   
Occasionally, Tim would make eye contact with the Goth and Marshal. Jez was nowhere to be seen. Marshal was with two other boys, each huddling into the others. These must have been his brothers, but their depressed posture showed Tim that they weren’t the only ones who should have been there.

A loud sound redirected all attention towards the gym, making everyone jump. Out came another group who must have been hiding really well.  
“JASON!” Called Dick. Tim’s heart lept and he jumped around, shaking his hands in the air to get Jason’s attention. The other boy saw and jogged in their direction. He hugged both at the same time; an action which surprised both Dick and Tim. Jason NEVER showed affection like this.   
“Thank fuck you two are safe.”

Dick hit him over the back of the head. “What the hell took you so long? We’ve been out here for like, an hour!” 

“Holed up a bunch of people in the roof. We didn’t know it was over till just now. Didn’t want to take any chances. Where’d you guys go?”  
“Bathroom” said Tim.  
“Classroom” said Dick.

Another half hour passed with the last of the police investigations for the day, and finally they were asked to line up in their homeroom groups. They were checked off and allowed to leave as their guardians came into sight and signed them out.  
Bruce stood at the gate apprehensively, wondering if he would see all three of his boys. He figured he would have been contacted sooner had any of them been taken to a hospital, but he couldn’t be sure until he had all three in his sights. He signed a form, and walked towards the congregation of dishelved students waiting to go home from this disaster.  
Jason was the first to show himself. Bruce’s heart fluttered as the younger boy got closer, and when he was close enough, he reached out and pulled him into a one sided hug. Jason’s hands stayed by his side, but he didn’t protest the contact. “Thank god you're safe. Do you know if the other two are?”   
“They’re fine too. According to this boy in my class, Marshal, Tim was a large help in stopping the shooters, but he almost died. It was by pure dumb luck he lived.”

Bruce’s heart stalled, but beat quicker when his other two boys walked towards him. Tim was wearing a T-shirt too large for him now, one from the school office apparently. Wherever his white shirt went, Bruce didn’t want to know.   
They walked to their limo, heads hung, photos being taken on either side of them, news reporters facing the cameras that pointed in their direction. They ignored the fuss around them, wanting nothing more than to get home and rest.

Alfred drove them home, Dick and Tim riding backwards in the limo, Jason and Bruce facing forward. Noone spoke, as if it would reenforce the idea that the day had been reality, and not just a bad dream.   
Jason broke the silence. “You were in the bathroom with Marshal.” Tim nodded. “He said you helped Jez, and that you were almost shot in the head.”  
“He was out of bullets though” confirmed Tim, staring at the ground. “Did he say what happened to Jez?”  
“He was taken away in an ambulance. Marshal has no idea, but he was more concernced with his brothers.”   
“How many does he have?” asked Tim, dreading the answer.  
“three. One was killed.”  
There was a hellish silence, each thinking of how awful it must be to lose a brother so suddenly.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like im taking a risk here. If this fic is seen as too unpleasant because of the topic it covers, i will delete it. Please let me know in the comments, and if enough people say to, I will do as promised. I in no way intend to trivialise the events, and if you believe I have, I am sincerely sorry.


End file.
